Lost
by artyfan
Summary: Reyna woke up on a bus, completely confused and with no memories. Somehow, after a single day, she ended up on a quest with a hyperactive son of Hephaestus and the head counselor of Camp Half-Blood's Aphrodite Cabin. The Lost Hero if it had been Reyna and Percy switched, and if Reyna, Leo, and Drew had been the ones to free Hera.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who wanted to know what the Lost Hero would have been like with the trio being Reyna, Leo, and Drew. Here's my take on it. Tell me if I'm using too much of the book itself.**

_**Reyna**_

When Reyna woke up, she was completely and utterly confused. She was sprawled against the window in the backseat of a bus full of teenagers. She sat up, her eyes moving automatically to the boy sitting next to her. He didn't look at all familiar, with his curly hair and pointed ears. No one she had seen before.

Actually, she realized, looking around, she didn't recognize anyone on the bus. She didn't even know how she had gotten there. She glanced out the window, into a desert. Reyna was pretty sure she didn't live in a desert.

"Oh, hey, you're awake," the boy next to her. Reyna didn't bother replying to that obvious statement. The boy was smiling mischievously, a smile that made Reyna feel decidedly nervous. She stared at him, automatically sizing him up to see if he was a threat. Reyna felt the urge to frown – why was she examining him like that? It wasn't like he was an enemy...was he? The boy frowned. "You okay, Reyna?"

Reyna wanted to say something along the lines of, _No, I'm not, and who are you, anyway?_

What came out of her mouth was a calm, "I'm fine, thank you."

Reyna was surprised by how easily the lie had come out of her mouth. She didn't think was a liar, though she supposed she couldn't really know. Maybe she kept to herself a lot? That seemed considerably more likely.

From the front of the bus, a teacher shouted, "All right, cupcakes, listen up!"

His voice interrupted Reyna's thoughts. She turned her attention to the teacher who had yelled. He was wearing a baseball cap, pulled low over his face. A whistle hung from his neck and a megaphone was clipped to his belt. Reyna guessed he was a coach.

The coach had a wispy goatee. He wore nylon workout pants and shoes, both spotless white. His buff arms and chest pushed against a bright orange shirt. Reyna's estimate pegged him at five feet. When he stood up, a student yelled, "Stand up, Coach Hedge!"

"I heard that!" the coach snapped, scanning the bus. His eyes fell upon Reyna and a scowl formed upon his face. The back of Reyna's neck prickled. Coach Hedge knew she wasn't supposed to be there.

Reyna was torn between anxiety, relief, and outright terror – she didn't know what was going on, but maybe the coach would help her. She wasn't going insane – she was in the wrong place.

_Or, _a little voice inside her head reminded her, _he might just call you out and demand to know what you're doing here._

Reyna really hoped it wouldn't come to that. She wouldn't know what to say, and someone knowing she wasn't supposed to be there...well, that would make it a lot harder to blend in. She held the coach's gaze, unflinching, until he finally looked away.

"We'll arrive in five minutes! Stay with your partner, don't lose your worksheet, and don't cause any trouble. If any of you cupcakes do, I will personally send you back to campus the hard way."

He picked up a baseball bat and swung it like he was hitting a homer.

Reyna raised an eyebrow. She turned to the boy next to her. "I still have difficulty understanding how he hasn't been fired yet – threats of physical violence?"

Reyna winced as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. They sounded off to her, like she was trying too hard to blend in. She was. But that didn't change the fact her words sounded off. Luckily, the boy didn't notice.

"Who knows? He always talks to us like that – this is the Wilderness School. Where the kids are the animals."

"Leo Valdez!" Coach Hedge yelled. "Problem back there?"

The boy next to Reyna winked at her. She nearly sighed with relief – she had his name now. "Sorry, Coach! I can't hear you very well. Would you use your megaphone, please?"

Coach Hedge grunted. He unclipped the megaphone from his belt, giving directions through it. His voice came out like Darth Vader's. A few kids tittered. The coach tried again, but the megaphone blared, "The cow says moo!"

Hedge slammed down his megaphone and yelled, "Valdez!"

Leo grinned at Reyna, wiggling a Phillips head screwdriver at her. She raised an eyebrow at him.

The bus dropped them off in front of a big red stucco complex. A museum of some sort, maybe. Reyna stood next to Leo, arms folded across her chest. A cold wind blew across the desert, making Reyna shiver. She wore a thin black sweater, a purple T-shirt, jeans and sneakers, not enough to keep her warm.

She followed the group into the museum. They walked through the building, pausing occasionally for Coach Hedge to lecture them. All the exhibits were about the Grand Canyon and the Hualapai tribe, which ran the museum. Now she knew where she was. That wasn't particularly helpful.

They reached the far side of the exhibit hall, where big glass doors led out to a terrace.

"All right," Coach Hedge announced. "You are about to see the Grand Canyon. The skywalk can hold the weight of seventy jumbo jets, so you featherweights should be safe out there. Try to avoid pushing each other off the edge – I don't want extra paperwork."

The coach opened the door. They all stepped out. The Grand Canyon spread before them. Extending over the edge was a horseshoe shaped walkway, made out of glass.

"Man," Leo said. "That's pretty wicked."

Reyna agreed. The view was stunning, and despite her amnesia and feeling that she shouldn't be there at all, she was impressed.

The canyon was enormous, bigger and wider than you could appreciate from a picture. Birds circled below their feet, giving Reyna an impression as to just how high they actually were. Far below, a river snaked along the canyon floor. Banks of storm clouds cast shadows across the cliffs. In all directions for as far as Reyna could see, red and grey ravines cut through the desert, as if a crazy god had taken a knife to it.

_Crazy god..._Reyna felt a piercing pain behind her eyes. She felt like that was important, something she should know. She closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them. Leo didn't seem to have noticed.

"This can't be safe," he mused, looking up at the clouds. "The storm's right above us, but it's clear all the way around. Weird, huh?"

Reyna glanced up. Leo was right. Something about that made her decidedly nervous.

Coach Hedge yelled something about complete sentences and getting to work. Reyna noted that he, too, had frowned at the storm. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried that she hadn't been the only one unnerved by it.

Leo tugged at Reyna's sleeve. She looked at him. He had built a helicopter out of pipe cleaners. He launched it over the edge. Reyna figured it would fall, but the blades actually spun. The tiny model copter made it halfway across the canyon before it lost momentum and plummeted.

"How did you do that?" Reyna asked. Leo shrugged, waving his nimble fingers at her.

"Would have been cooler if I had had some rubber bands."

Leo thought she was supposed to be there. In fact, everyone was acting like her being there was normal – except for Coach Hedge.

"I'll be back in a minute," Reyna said. She headed across the skywalk before Leo could protest. She walked up to Coach Hedge, who was leaning against his baseball bat, studying the clouds. Before she could say anything, the coach asked, "Did you do this?"

"Excuse me?" Reyna asked. Coach Hedge glared at her.

"Don't play games. What are you doing here and why are you screwing up my job?"

Reyna closed her eyes, trying her best to maintain composure. At least she hadn't misinterpreted his look earlier – he had no idea who she was. She wasn't supposed to be there, despite what everyone else in the class seemed to think. "I don't know, sir. I can't to remember anything. I just know I'm not supposed to be here."

"Got that right," Hedge muttered. "You smell like a half-blood. Who are you and where did you come from?"

Reyna frowned. "I told you, I don't have any memories. Could you...help me?"

The words stuck in Reyna's throat. She got the distinct impression she didn't like asking for help. She ignored the feeling – she didn't really have a choice.

Coach Hedge scanned Reyna's face as if he was trying to read her thoughts. "You're not lying, are you? Look, girl. I don't know who you are, but I do know what you are. That means trouble. I've got to protect two of you, now. Are you the special package?"

"Would you care to elaborate on that?" Reyna demanded, keeping her voice under control. Hedge didn't answer immediately, instead looking up at the storm clouds. They were getting thicker and darker.

"This morning," Hedge explained, "I got a message from camp. They said an extraction team is on the way. They're coming to pick up a special package, but they didn't tell me anymore than that. The kid I'm watching is pretty powerful, older than most. There's a monster in the group, so I figured that's why the camp is so frantic to get to them. Then you pop up out of nowhere. Are you the special package?"

Reyna's headache was growing worse. _Camp. Monster. _She still didn't know exactly what Hedge was talking about, but the words felt familiar. She stumbled and the coach caught her. His grip was a lot stronger than she would have expected. "Whoa, there. You say you don't have any memories? Fine. I'll watch you, too. The director can figure things out."

"Director?" Reyna asked. Hedge started to say something, but he was cut off by the crackle of lightning and the howl of the wind picking up. The skywalk shook. Kids screamed, grabbing onto the railing. Hedge grabbed his megaphone.

"Everyone inside! The cow says moo! Off the skywalk!"

"I thought you said this thing was stable," Reyna called over the wind.

"Under normal circumstances," the coach agreed. "These aren't normal circumstances. _Move!_"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two, also known as the chapter where Reyna gets to be a badass without Jason's powers of flight and lightning resistance.**

_**Reyna**_

Reyna obeyed, struggling over to the doors. Kids were screaming, rushing in the same direction. Leo had managed to make his way over to the doors, holding them open for the other kids. Another guy joined him, holding open the other door.

Coach Hedge was behind Reyna. They fought the wind, but their progress was slow. Reyna wasn't even certain they were making any. Leo and the other boy pushed another kid inside before they lost their grip. Leo yanked at the handles hard, but the doors seemed stuck. The kids on the inside hammered on them, but it did no good.

"Dylan," Leo shouted. "Help!"

Dylan didn't move. Instead, he stood there, grinning. Reyna's eyes narrowed as he realized just how still he was standing.

"Sorry, Leo," Dylan smirked, "but I'm done helping."

He flicked his wrist. Leo flew backwards, slamming into the doors and slipping down to the skywalk deck.

Reyna's first instinct was to run forward. She didn't know whether she would have followed her instinct or not, because Hedge's arm shot out, aiding the wind in holding him back.

"Stay back, kid," he ordered. "My fight. This is our monster."

The coach raised his baseball bat – only it didn't look like a baseball bat anymore. Hedge was holding a club, made out of a branch with the twigs and leaves still attached. His cap blew off, revealing twin bumps above his curly hair, almost like horns.

Dylan grinned happily. "Oh, come _on. _Don't you think you're getting a bit old for this? You didn't even realize what I am – I've been on your team all year, grandpa."

Coach Hedge made an angry sound. It sounded oddly animalistic, like a goat bleating. Reyna frowned. That sounded familiar...

"Okay, that's it, cupcake," the coach growled. "You're going down."

Dylan laughed. "Don't you think you're a bit too old to be protecting two half-bloods at once, grandpa? It's going to be fun to watch you fail."

He turned, pointing at Leo, who had managed to get to his feet. A funnel cloud formed around him, and he flew off the skywalk. Somehow he managed to twist around in midair, slamming into the canyon wall. He skidded, hands clawing desperately for a handhold. He managed to catch hold of a ledge, some fifty feet below the skywalk. He hung there by his fingertips, screaming.

Coach Hedge swore and tossed his club at Reyna. "I may have no idea who you are, kid, but I sure hope you're good. Keep that _thing _busy while I get Leo."

Reyna nodded, ignoring the obvious question – _how? _It didn't matter. Hedge kicked off his shoes. Reyna inhaled sharply. Where his feet should be were goat's hooves. Reyna thought back to the twin bumps on Hedge's head – they hadn't resembled horns. They _were _horns. Which meant...

"You're a faun," she blurted.

"Satyr," Hedge snapped. "We can talk about that later."

Hedge jumped over the railing. He landed hooves first on the canyon wall, scampering down with unbelievable agility, finding tiny footholds and dodging whirlwinds, all while making his way to Leo. Reyna felt a surge of grudging respect rise in her chest.

"As much as I'd like to watch..." Dylan trailed off, turning to Reyna with a predatory grin. "Your turn."

Reyna hurled the club at him. It struck him square in the head, so hard he fell to his knees. He rose, golden blood trickling from his forehead. He glared at Reyna darkly.

"Nice try," he said. "But if you want to beat me, you're going to have to do better than that."

The skywalk shuddered, narrow cracks appearing in the glass. Dylan's body dissolved into smoke, leaving Reyna staring at something with the same face but composed entirely of black smoke. Dylan sprouted black wings, rising above the skywalk like some sort of monstrous angel.

"You're a _ventus_," she found herself saying, the word rising to her lips easily. Her voice was calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Reyna was starting to think that no matter what happened, her voice would always be calm. "A storm spirit."

Dylan laughed. Two more funnel clouds landed on either side of him and turned into _venti_ – ghostly male figures with dark, smokey wings. Great. Three of them. "I'm glad I waited, demigod. I've known about Leo for weeks, could have killed him at any time. But my mistress told me another was coming – someone special. She will reward me greatly for your death!"

He lunged.

Reyna's instincts took over. She dodged, rolling out of the way. By the time she actually realized what was going on, she had slashed at the back of one of the storm spirits with a gold knife that had appeared in her hand. Her blade passed through, the smokey form disintegrating. Another _ventus_ lunged at her. Reyna struck again. With one jab, the _ventus_ dissolved into gold powder.

Reyna's eyes flitted down to her right arm – the sleeve of her sweater was ripped. Had she had the knife up her sleeve? How? Why?

Coach Hedge and Leo had reached the skywalk. Hedge dumped Leo off his back unceremoniously. The boy got to his feet unsteadily, chest heaving. "Reyna, old friend, would you do me the favour of committing me to a mental institution? Right now?"

"Hey, why didn't you leave me a challenge?" Hedge demanded. Reyna raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"A challenge?" Leo gasped. "I fell down the freaking Grand Canyon! Stop asking for challenges! Please!"

Dylan hissed. Reyna noted a glint of fear in his eyes. "You've awakened many enemies. You don't understand how many, how powerful they truly are. My mistress will destroy _all _demigods. This is a war you cannot win."

The wind picked up into a full force gale, sheets of rain pouring down. Reyna had a hard time keeping her balance.

Above them, a hole opened in the clouds, a swirling vortex of black and silver.

"My mistress calls me back!" Dylan shrieked with twisted mirth. "And _you _will return with me!"

He hurled himself at Reyna. She flung herself aside. Both collapsed onto the ground. Leo and Coach Hedge surged forward, but Dylan let loose a torrent that knocked them all backwards. Reyna's dagger flew out of her hand, clattering against the glass skywalk. Hedge landed in an undignified pile. Leo slammed against the glass, hitting the back of his head. He curled up on his side, groaning. Reyna didn't even have time to be worried before Dylan grabbed a hold of Leo's arm and began to rise. The storm spun faster, pulling them upward.

Coach Hedge yelled something unintelligible and launched himself at the spirit. He lashed out with his hooves, knocking Leo free of Dylan's grasp. Leo landed safely, but Dylan caught hold of the coach's arms instead. Hedge kicked at him, then tried to headbutt him. When both approaches failed, he called the _ventus_ a cupcake. The two rose into air, spiralling into the clouds, then disappeared.

Reyna strode over to Leo, dropping to her knees next to him. He groaned when she turned him over. His curly black hair glittered with gold from the disintegrated storm spirits. But he was alive.

"Stupid...goat," he mumbled. He looked up blearily at Reyna. "Did he actually...save my life?"

"Twice," Reyna confirmed.

"What _happened?_" Leo groaned, rubbing his head. "Best friend with a gold knife...I'm hallucinating, right? You're taking me to a hospital?"

Reyna shushed him, getting up and walking over to where her knife had fallen. She picked it up, staring at it. Shrugging, she turned back to Leo, offering him her hand. She hauled him up to his feet once he took it. Leo stared at her as if he had never seen her before – the look on his face was pretty much the embodiment of what Reyna had been feeling since she woke up.

"Reyna, what _were _those things?" he asked her, wide eyed.

"_Venti_," she replied. "They're storm spirits."

"How do you know that? You acted like you'd seen them before." Leo hesitated, then asked, "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" Reyna repeated. She gazed at Leo, then and the gold dagger she held in her hand. "To tell you the truth, Leo, I don't know."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know who you are. I can't remember who I am. I just woke up on the bus. I don't know anything more than that."

It sounded ridiculous. But Leo nodded slowly. "Under ordinary circumstances, that would sound idiotic. But after _this..._"

Leo gestured vaguely at the world around them. Reyna looked around. The storm was starting to dissipate. The kids inside the building were still staring out in horror. Security guards were working on the locks, but they didn't seem to be making much progress.

"Reyna?" Leo said suddenly. "Look up there and tell me if those are flying horses. Or am I still hallucinating?"

Reyna looked. A dark shape was descending pulling a brightly coloured object – a chariot? Too slow for a plane, too large for a bird. Grey, four legged animals, exactly like horses – except for the twenty foot wingspan. Reyna felt a small smile cross her lips – the first all day.

"Pegasi," she breathed. Louder, she said, "Reinforcements. Hedge told me an extraction squad was coming to pick us up."

"Extraction squad? What, are they taking us to see a dentist?"

Reyna ignored him. She watched as the chariot landed on the far side of the skywalk. The pegasi tucked in their wings and cantered nervously across the glass, as if they sensed it was near breaking. Two teenagers stood in the chariot, a tall blonde girl and a bulky guy with a shaved head. Both wore jeans and orange shirts, with shields tossed over their backs.

Reyna's eyes narrowed involuntarily at the sight of the girl, who leaped off before the chariot had even stopped moving. She whipped out a knife and loped toward where Reyna and Leo stood.

"I _know _you," Reyna said. The other girl frowned, grey eyes narrowing. She looked Reyna up and down, then nodded.

"You do look very familiar," the girl admitted. "I don't know where from, though."

Her gaze hardened, sweeping the skywalk. The guy from the chariot came over to stand next to her. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Leo asked. The girl scowled, clearly dissatisfied with Leo's answer.

"What about Gleeson?" she demanded. "Where is your protector, Gleeson Hedge?"

"Uh..." Leo stammered. He pointed vaguely at the sky. "He got taken by some...tornado things."

"_Venti_," Reyna cut in. The blonde girl arched an eyebrow.

"You mean _annemoi thuellai?_" she asked. "That's the Greek term. Now – who are you and what exactly happened?"

Reyna didn't want to answer. A small voice inside her head was warning her that knowledge was power and that the blonde was dangerous. Reyna didn't trust the other girl, and didn't want her to have any more knowledge than necessary. Regardless, Reyna spoke, meeting the other girl's gaze calmly.

By the time she stopped speaking, the blonde was scowling. Reyna couldn't help but feel threatened. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her knife.

"No," the blonde girl muttered. "She told me he would be here. I was supposed to find the answer if I came here."

She started pacing back and forth.

"Annabeth," the bald guy grunted. He pointed to Reyna's shirt. "Check it out."

Reyna glanced down. Plain purple T-shirt.

"The one with the purple shirt," the bald guy said. "She's the answer."

"No, Butch," Annabeth insisted. "She can't be. It was a trick."

She glared up at the sky, as if she wanted to start screaming. Instead, she spoke in a low growl."What have you done with him? What do you _want?_"

The pegasi were whinnying. The sound was strangely calming to Reyna. The moment she heard it she felt a strange craving for peanut butter.

"Annabeth," Butch said again. "We've got to go. We can figure this out once we get back to camp."

Annabeth fixed Reyna with a resentful stare. Reyna stared right back. Annabeth dropped her gaze first. "Fine. We can settle this later."

Annabeth turned on her heel, marching back to the chariot.

"What's her problem?" Leo shook his head, staring after the girl.

Butch hesitated. "Annabeth's okay. Cut her a bit of slack, she's under a lot of stress right now. She had a vision telling her to come here and find the one with the purple shirt. That was supposed to be te answer to her problem."

"What problem?" Leo asked.

"One of our campers has been missing for the past few days. She's been looking for him," Butch replied. "She's practically out of her mind with worry. She thought he'd be here."

"Who?" Reyna asked. She was alert, almost unusually so. She felt like electricity was coursing through her veins. Like if Butch said the wrong thing, she would pounce.

"Her boyfriend," Butch told her. "A guy named Percy Jackson."

**Review? I'm not sure if Annabeth would recognize Reyna or not, but it seems logical – Reyna is said to look like a younger version of Hylla, and I'm guessing Hylla was about Reyna's age, maybe a little older, when Percy and Annabeth were on Circe's island.**

**Question of the chapter: Who is your favourite Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus character and why?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing! You guys are great.**

_**Reyna**_

Reyna bit back a hiss, struggling to keep her features under control. She _knew _that name. She knew it. She didn't know how, but it was familiar to her, just like Annabeth. Leo looked at her with concern. "You okay, Rey?"

Reyna managed to nod. She tried to swallow. It felt like there was a guinea pig sized lump in her throat. Something about the name Percy Jackson made her feel troubled, almost sick. She shook herself, then followed Butch to the chariot.

She and Leo climbed into the back. Butch and Annabeth were in front of them, Butch handling the reins. Annabeth adjusted some sort of navigation device.

The chariot rose, heading east. Storm clouds were gathering behind them, and the wind was picking up again. The chariot lurched in the wind, picking up speed.

Leo had a huge smile on his face. He was looking at the pegasi in wonder. He spit out a feather. "This is awesome! Where are we going?"

"The only safe place for people like us," Annabeth said. "Camp Half-Blood."

"Half-Blood?" Leo asked blankly.

"Another word for demigod," Reyna cut in. "Half human half god."

Annabeth looked back. Her eyes were narrowed like she was thinking hard. "If I could remember where we met..."

The girl shook herself. "Anyways, yes – demigods. I'm a daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom. Butch's mom is Iris, the rainbow goddess."

"Your mom's a rainbow goddess?" Leo spluttered.

"Got a problem with that?" Butch said.

"You shouldn't underestimate Iris," Annabeth warned. "Or get on her bad side. If she likes you – or at least you haven't offended her – she can help you a lot, if you know how to ask. Butch is our best equestrian. He gets along great with the pegasi."

"Ponies, rainbows," Leo muttered under his breath. Butch threatened to throw him out of the chariot.

Lightning flashed. Reyna's eyes caught sight of the left wheel. "Wheel's on fire!"

Annabeth cursed. Reyna saw dark shapes forming in the clouds – storm spirits, in the shape of horses, moving in towards the chariots.

"Why are they – " Leo started to ask. Annabeth cut him off, explaining how they took different shapes depending on how chaotic they were.

Butch flicked the reins. The pegasi put on a burst of speed. The chariot blurred. When it finally slowed down, they were in an entirely different place – Reyna didn't know where, but it definitely wasn't Arizona.

She took in the scene. A grey ocean was to the left, waves crashing against the shore. To their right were fields, roads, and forests, all covered with snow. Directly below was a valley, rimmed with snowy hills on three sides and water on the fourth. In the valley were a cluster of buildings, a big blue farmhouse, and a climbing wall that seemed to be on fire. Before she could observe much more, the wheels of the chariot came off. The chariot plummeted.

Annabeth and Butch struggled to keep control. The pegasi struggled to keep going, but the weight was clearly too much, after their burst of speed.

"Aim for the lake!" Annabeth yelled.

She had barely finished speaking when - BOOM.

The cold came as a shock. She took a moment to get over it, to get her bearings straight. Before she could start swimming to the surface, two girl appeared in front of her. They both had long hair and strange, yellow eyes that practically glowed. They took her by the arms with smiles, hauling her to the surface.

A strange, almost overwhelming desire, _need, _to free herself welled up inside Reyna. It was stupid – they were helping her, taking her to the surface where she could _breathe. _But the feeling of people touching her terrified her. Together, underwater, the two girls were stronger than she was – even if she had been unable to resist the urge to pull away, she wouldn't have been able to, had the girls chosen to hold on. She felt powerless, not in control – she didn't like it. She _needed _to be in control of her life.

The girls let go of her, tossing her to the shore. Reyna breathed a sigh of relief, looking around.

Butch stood in the lake, cutting the pegasi free of the ruined harnesses. They seemed okay, but they were splashing water everywhere. Reyna felt a surge of sympathy – they had flown all the way from the Grand Canyon to somewhere on the coast, and had landed in a lake. They were probably freezing.

Leo and Annabeth were a few feet away from her, surrounded by kids giving them blankets and asking questions. Reyna jumped to her feet. Apparently, people falling into the lake wasn't out of the ordinary, because a group of kids ran up with bronze blower things and blasted Reyna with hot air – her clothes were dry in seconds.

Reyna looked around. There were twenty campers, maybe more, milling around. Their ages ranged from maybe nine to nineteen. They all wore orange shirts like Annabeth's.

A guy with a bow and quiver strapped to his back pushed through the crowd until he reached the spot where the ruined chariot lay. He stared at it mournfully. "Annabeth! I said you could _borrow _the chariot, not destroy it!"

"I'm sorry, Will," Annabeth sighed. "I'll get it fixed soon, I promise."

Will turned to look at Reyna and Leo. "Are these the new ones? Why haven't they been claimed yet? Definitely older than thirteen."

"Claimed?" Leo asked. Before Annabeth had a chance to say anything, Will said, "Any sign of Percy?"

"No," Annabeth admitted. The campers started muttering to each other. Percy was clearly someone important. "As for Leo and Reyna, we're just going to have to assign them each a guide, give them a tour..."

Her voice trailed off as the campers stepped back as one, faces bathed in red light. Reyna turned to see a blazing, holographic image hovering above Leo's head – a fiery hammer. Leo glanced up and let out a yelp.

"Is my hair on fire?"

He ducked, trying to get away from the flames. It was pointless – the symbol followed him, always the same distance from his head, ducking and weaving with him.

"This can't be good," Butch muttered. "The curse – "

"Shut up, Butch," Annabeth snapped. "Leo, you've just been claimed – "

"By Vulcan," Reyna finished. Immediately, she wished she hadn't. All eyes moved from Leo to her, as if she was some kind of alien. Someone who wasn't supposed to be there, at any rate. She didn't _feel _like she should be there either.

"Reyna," Annabeth said slowly. "How...how do you know that?"

Reyna retained her bland expression, shrugging carelessly.

"What is this, Star Trek?" Leo demanded.

"Vulcan is the Roman name for Hephaestus, god of blacksmiths," Annabeth explained. She turned to Will. "Could you take Leo? Give him a tour, introduce him to his bunk mates in Cabin Nine?"

"Sure."

"I'm not a Vulcan," Leo protested. Will rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Mr. Spock. I'll explain everything." Will put a hand on Leo's shoulder, steering him away from the crowd,

Another girl stepped forward, arms folded across her chest. She was Asian, tall and pretty. She wore an orange shirt and jeans, like all the others. She glanced coolly at Leo, who was being led away, then turned her gaze to Reyna. Annabeth, next to the girl, also had her eyes fixed on Reyna.

"Hold out your arm," Annabeth ordered. Reyna raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"Please, Reyna, just do it." Annabeth gestured to Reyna's right arm, the one with the torn sleeve. Reyna didn't move for a beat. Then, slowly, feeling as if she was doing something that she shouldn't be, she held out her arm.

"I have a few questions I'd like answers to," she said as Annabeth took hold of her arm.

"We'll answer your questions soon, I promise. Just hold on."

Reyna glanced down at her arm to see what Annabeth was staring at – a darkly etched tattoo, partially obscured by the remains of her sleeve. Annabeth pushed up the sleeve to bare Reyna's entire forearm. There were four lines below a crossed sword and torch and the letters SPQR.

The campers still surrounding them started to whisper again at the sight of the tattoo. Other pushed forward to look. The marks seemed to bother them a _lot –_ more than seemed reasonable. Reyna understood – she herself couldn't help but feel threatened. Not by the marks, of course – it was the proximity of the campers, their whispering and staring.

"They looked burned into your skin," Annabeth noted. Reyna felt a sharp pain above her left eye. She stifled the urge to wince at the pain and shrugged – she had done that a lot recently, and was getting rather sick of it.

Reyna noted that everyone's eyes had gone to Annabeth. They clearly regarded her as their leader and were waiting for her verdict.

"She needs to see Chiron," Annabeth decided at last. Reyna felt an unexpected surge of disappointment. She didn't trust Annabeth, but she had pegged the girl as a _leader, _not someone that would push responsibility off onto other people. "Drew, would you – "

"Actually, Annabeth, I have a couple things I need to get done," the Asian girl next to Annabeth interrupted. "Don't worry, though – Mitchell would love to show Reyna around, wouldn't you, Mitchell?"

She turned to smile sweetly at a boy in the crowd. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards her, whispering something into his ear. Reyna's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

The boy walked over to Reyna with a bright smile. He gestured off into the distance. "This way. I'll introduce you to our director."

Reyna swallowed her unease and followed Mitchell toward the big blue house.

**Thanks for reading, everyone! This'll probably be my last update for a while – school for me starts on Tuesday, so I'll be pretty busy. I'd love it if someone could tell me how I'm doing on characterization. That's really important to me, and I'm scared I'm making Reyna too...skittish. She's a character that I find a lot easier to write from other people's perspectives. I don't know how to write her from her own.**

**Question of the chapter: What do you think of Rachel Elizabeth Dare? Personally, I absolutely love her.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, guys. After a long while, I have finished with this chapter. I have a poll up on my profile that you all should vote on, about this story.**

_**Leo**_

Leo's tour was going great until the tiny matter of the dragon came up.

The archer dude, Will Solace seemed pretty cool. He showed Leo around the camp, showing him things so awesome they should have been illegal. Some of them probably were. Greek warships moored at the beach that sometimes had practice fights with flaming arrows and explosives? Arts and crafts, where sculptures were made with blow torches and chain saws? Woods stocked with monsters? The camp was incredible, and Leo wanted to try everything it had to offer. He still thought that he – or maybe everyone there – was insane, but hey – might as well embrace the craziness.

"Do I get a sword?" Leo asked as they passed the sword arena. Will looked at him as if the idea disturbed him.

"You're in Cabin Nine, so you'll probably make your own. Talk to Nyssa. She'll teach you if you ask her."

"What's up with the Cabin Nine thing? Vulcan?"

"Vulcan's the Roman name for your dad," Will explained. "We don't normally call the gods by the Roman names. The original are Greek. Your dad's Hephaestus."

"Hephaestus?" Leo repeated. "Sounds like the god of, I don't know, cowboys or something."

"Blacksmiths and fire, actually," Will said.

Leo winced. God of fire...seriously? Was this some kind of joke? Some kind of really twisted joke? After what had happened to his mom, it definitely felt like it.

"What about that flaming hammer over my head?" Leo asked, changing the subject. "What was with that? Good, bad?"

"Hephaestus acknowledged you as his son." Will paused for a moment, thinking about the other part of the question. "It happened right away. That's usually good."

"Usually?" Leo repeated. "Hang on...does this have anything to do with the curse that Butch guy mentioned?"

"Um...it's nothing. It's just...since Beckendorf, Cabin Nine's last head counsellor died – "

"Died?" Leo interrupted. "How? Like, painfully?"

Will raised his hands. "Whoa, slow down. I shouldn't tell you that. That's probably better left for your bunkmates to do. They can explain it better than I can."

"Yeah, where _are _my home dawgs?" Leo asked. He stopped for a second. "I mean, no offence or anything. You're pretty cool and all, but shouldn't their counsellor be giving me the tour, showing me the ropes?"

"He would, but, um...he can't. You'll see why." Will hurried forward before Leo could ask any more questions.

"Curses and death," Leo mumbled to himself, setting off after Will. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

They were halfway across the green when Leo saw something that – unless he both very mistaken and the unluckiest person on the planet – was _definitely _not supposed to be there. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"What's the matter?" Will asked. Leo ignored him.

This was impossible. Not even _his _luck was this bad. Maybe it was all his bad karma from a previous life. Tia Callida – _Auntie _Callida as she had called herself – standing there, in front of his eyes for the first time since he was five.

She was staring at him, from the shadow of a big white cabin at the end of the green. She wore a black linen dress. Her withered, claw like hands clutched at the black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She looked ancient, but the exact same as the last time Leo had seen her, as if she'd been frozen in time for a decade.

"That old lady..." Leo said, staring. "What's she doing here?"

Will tried to follow Leo's gaze. "What old lady?"

"Dude, how many old ladies do you see over there? _That _lady, in black."

Will frowned, looking around. "You've had a long day, Leo. The Mist is probably still messing with your mind – there's no old lady here."

Leo wanted to object, but when he glanced back at the cabin, Tia Callida was gone. Yet, he was certain she had been there, staring at him, as if Leo's thought about his mother had brought Callida back from the past, exactly as she had been.

He really hoped not. That would be bad, seeing as Tia Callida had tried to kill him.

"Just messing with you, man." Leo pulled a few of the gears he always kept in his pocket out and started fiddling with them. He didn't want everyone to think he was crazy already. Or at least, crazier than he actually was. "Come on, let's go."

Will hesitated. "Actually, do you mind if I ask you a few questions before we go to Cabin Nine?"

"Questions?" Leo repeated, raising an eyebrow. "About what? Shouldn't I be the one with questions to ask?"

"Reyna," Will clarified. "So, you said she has amnesia?"

"I guess. She says she just woke up on the bus, with no memories," Leo paused, his brow furrowing as he frowned. "I know it was the Mist and I never actually knew her, but that's a really weird thought – I imagined my best friend?"

Will nodded sympathetically. "Yeah. It sucks, but that's our life, I guess."

Leo was glad Will had changed the subject from his psycho babysitter – Reyna was still an uncomfortable topic for him to think about, now that he knew he had never known her, but she was better than Tia Callida any day.

He had few distinct memories about Reyna, but he had been sure she had been there. He could remember the first week pretty clearly – the rest was a blur.

Leo tried to focus on his memories – it was disturbing how much he had imagined, how real the vague memories had felt before he had learned he hadn't actually experienced them. Did that mean he really was insane?

He had thought he had met Reyna a few months earlier, in August or September. She had been quietly confident, commanding respect from everyone. He had flirted with her for a while and she hadn't shown any reaction. After a while, she had gotten annoyed – the most emotion he had ever seen her display – and thrown something at him, a pair of scissors that hadn't touched him, but had gone through his shirt and pinned him to the wall behind him. He had thought they had been best friends since that first encounter, really the only one he could remember. Clearly not.

So what had he _done, _all these months, if Reyna hadn't been there? What had actually happened? Had he imagined the only friend he had had? How pathetic was that?

"What do you think of her?" Will asked. Leo blinked. What was that supposed to mean?

"She's wicked with a knife," Leo offered. "She killed two of those storm spirit things."

Will frowned. "She killed two? She was really lucky, then. Even our best weapons go straight through, unless we catch them by surprise. Anything else? What's she like?"

Leo thought about it. "Reyna is either insane or has pretty awesome control over her emotions. Don't know which, but nothing seems to surprise her."

He expected Will to stare, but the other boy just nodded thoughtfully. "I know a few people like that."

Will shook himself. "Come on, Leo. Let's go meet Cabin Nine."

Leo followed the older boy into one of the cabins. It looked more like an oversized RV than anything, with its shiny walls and metal slatted windows. The entrance was thick and circular. It opened with a lot of turning of brass gears and hydraulic pistons blowing smoke. It kind of reminded Leo of the first Harry Potter movie. He whistled in admiration.

The cabin seemed deserted once they walked in. Steel bunks were folded against the walls. Each had a digital control panel, blinking LEDs, glowing gems, and interlocking gears. Leo figured that each camper had a combination lock to release the bed, probably with an alcove behind it for storage. He looked around, impressed. Whoever had designed the cabin was brilliant.

The cabin was a lot bigger on the interior than it had seemed from the outside. A fire pole came down from the second floor, and a circular staircase led down into a basement. The walls were lined with shelves filled with every kind of power tool imaginable. Hanging from the walls looking almost like some of the decorations one of Leo's foster families had kept up were swords, knives, and other implements of destruction. Leo got the impression that these ones were actually used.

In the centre of the room was a workbench, large and overflowing with scrap metal and machine parts – screws, bolts, nuts, washers, rivets, gears, sprockets...Leo had to resist the urge to shove them all into his coat pockets. He loved that kind of stuff. But no, he would need a hundred coats to fit it all in.

Something about the place reminded Leo of his mom's workshop. Maybe not the weapons, but the tools, the metal, the spare parts, the smell of grease. She would have loved Cabin Nine. A lump formed in Leo's throat.

He pushed the thoughts of his mother away. He didn't like dwelling on painful memories. He had learned a valuable lesson a long time ago – _keep moving. _It had become almost his motto. If he kept moving forward, mentally, physically, he could keep ahead of the pain, keep ahead of the sadness.

To distract himself, he picked up a long object from the wall. "What does the god of fire want with a weedwhacker?"

"You'd be surprised," said a voice from the shadows. In the back of the room, there was one occupied bunk. A curtain of dark material retracted, revealing a guy who had been invisible a moment before. Leo couldn't guess at his age, or tell what he looked like because he was covered in a body cast. His head was wrapped in gauze, except for his face, which was bruised and puffy.

"I'm Jake Mason," the guy said. "I'd shake your hand, but..."

"Yeah," Leo said. "Don't get up."

The guy cracked a smile, then winced. "Welcome to Cabin Nine. Been almost a year since we had any new kids. I'm head counsellor, for now."

"So where is everyone, Jake?" Will asked.

"Down at the forges," Jake said wistfully. He looked away from Leo and Will, his eyes staring off into the distance, as if he were imagining himself elsewhere. "Working on...you know, the problem."

"Problem?" Leo asked.

"So, do you have a spare bed for Leo?" Will said, changing the subject clumsily.

Jake studied Leo, sizing him up. "So, Leo. You believe in curses? Or ghosts?"

_I just saw my evil babysitter, _Leo thought. _She should be dead, but she looked just like when I last saw her. And I can't go a day without thinking about my mom in that fire. Don't bring up ghosts._

Aloud, he said, "Ghosts? Nah. A storm spirit threw me down the Grand Canyon, but all in a day's work, right?"

Jake nodded thoughtfully. "That's good. Because I'll give you the best bed in this cabin – Beckendorf's."

"Whoa, Jake," Will said. "You sure about that?"

"Bunk 1-A, please," Jake called.

The whole cabin rumbled. A circular section of the floor spiralled open, and a bed popped up. The bronze frame had a built-in game station at the footboard, a stereo system in the headboard, a glass-door refrigerator mounted into the base, and a whole bunch of control panels running down the side.

Leo didn't know why Jake was giving this to him – was it because no one else wanted it? But he wasn't going to question it. He jumped right in.

"It retracts into a private room below," Jake told him. Leo grinned, opening his mouth to ask which buttons he should press.

"Hold on," Will protested, interrupting him. "You guys have underground rooms?"

Jake looked like he wanted to smile.

"We've got our secrets, Will. You Apollo guys can't have all the fun, right? Our campers have been excavating the tunnel system under the cabin for decades. Anyway, Leo, if you don't mind sleeping in a dead man's bed, it's yours."

Leo sat up, careful not to touch any buttons. "The counsellor that died – this was his bed?"

"Yeah," Jake said. "Charles Beckendorf."

"He didn't...he didn't die, like, _in _this bed, did he?" Leo really hoped not. His imagination conjured up thoughts of saw blades coming through the mattress. To his relief, Will shook his head.

"No," Jake said. "In the Titan War, last summer.

"The Titan War?" Leo repeated. "Which has nothing to do with this bed that I am currently sitting on?"

"The Titans," Will said, like he thought Leo was an idiot. It was a familiar tone. "The big powerful guys that ruled the world before the gods. They tried to make a comeback last summer. Their leader, Kronos, built a new palace on top of Mount Tam in California. Their armies came to New York and almost destroyed Mount Olympus. A lot of demigods died trying to stop them."

"I'm guessing this wasn't on the news?" Leo said. It seemed like a fair question, but Will shook his head in disbelief.

"Where _were _you?" Will demanded. "You didn't hear about Mount St. Helens erupting? Or the freak storms all over the country?"

Leo shrugged. He hadn't exactly had access to the news last summer – he'd run away from another foster home. A truancy officer had caught him in New Mexico, and the court had sentenced him to the nearest correctional facility – the Wilderness School.

"You were lucky to miss it," Jake said. "The thing is, Beckendorf was one of the first casualties, and ever since then—"

"Your cabin's been cursed," Leo guessed. Jake didn't answer. The body cast was enough.

Leo's eyes darted around the cabin, noticing tiny details he hadn't seen before. An explosion mark on the wall. A stain on the floor that might have been oil...or maybe blood. Broken swords and smashed machines were kicked into corners. The place _did _feel unlucky.

Jake sighed halfheartedly. "Well, I should get some sleep. I hope you like it here, Leo. It used to be… really nice."

He closed his eyes, and the camouflage curtain drew itself across the bed.

"Come on, Leo," Will said. "I'll take you to the forges."

Leo looked back at his new bed as they stepped out of the door. He could almost imagine a dead counsellor sitting there, staring at him – a big guy, serious, but with a wry smile curving his mouth.

Another ghost that would never leave him alone.

**Chapter question: Favourite Harry Potter character?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, guys, next chapter.**

_**Leo**_

"How'd he die?" Leo asked as they trudged along. "Beckendorf, I mean."

"Explosion," Will said flatly. His relaxed demeanour had vanished the moment he had stepped into Cabin Nine – still polite, friendly, but distracted, sad. As if entering the cabin had brought back memories he'd rather not dwell on. Leo could relate. "Beckendorf and Percy Jackson blew up a cruise ship full of monsters. Beckendorf didn't make it out."

There was that name again – Percy Jackson. Annabeth's missing boyfriend.

_Who _was _that guy? _Leo thought. _He must have been into everything around here._

"So Beckendorf was pretty popular?" Leo asked. "I mean...before he blew up?"

"He was awesome," Will confirmed. "He didn't talk much, but he was friendly, nice to everyone. If someone broke a sword or anything, he would fix it and make it better than it had been for them. It was hard on the whole camp when he died. Jake became head counsellor in the middle of the war. Same as I did, actually. He tried his best, but he never wanted to be leader. He just likes building stuff.

"After the war, everything started to go wrong. Cabin Nine's chariots blew up. Their automatons started to malfunction. Nothing good ever happened, like a curse – people started to call it that. The Curse of Cabin Nine. Then Jake had his accident..."

"Something to do with the problem he mentioned?" Leo guessed.

"They're working on it," Will said. He didn't sound too optimistic. "Here we are."

The forge looked like a steam powered locomotive crossed with an ancient Greek temple. White marble columns – _Doric, _he could hear a voice telling him (probably a past history teacher) – lined soot stained walls. Chimneys pumped smoke over an elaborately carved gable. The building sat at the edge of a stream, with waterwheels turning a series of bronze gears. Leo could hear machinery grinding, hammers ringing against anvils.

When they stepped through the doorway, a dozen guys and girls who had been working on various projects froze. The noise died down to the roar of the forge and the faintest clinking of gears and levers.

"Hey guys," Will said. "What's up? This is your new brother, Leo – um, what's your last name?"

"Valdez." Leo looked around at the campers. Was he really related to all of them? His cousins came from big families, but he had always just had his mom – until she died.

Kids came up and started shaking his hand, introducing themselves. Shane, Christopher, Nyssa, Harley. Leo knew he would never keep them all straight. Too many of them. It was overwhelming.

None of them resembled any of the others. Different face types, skin tone, eye and hair colour, height. No one would ever look at them and think, _Hey, there's the Hephaestus bunch. _Leo would never have guessed they were related. He was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around the whole Greek gods and demigods thing. But everyone had powerful hands, rough with callouses and smeared with engine grease. Even Harley, who couldn't have been more than eight, looked like he could go a couple rounds with Chuck Norris without breaking a sweat.

And all the kids shared a kind of sad solemnity. Their shoulders all slumped down like they were tired, like life had beaten them down pretty hard. Leo didn't like their defeatist attitude.

Several of them looked like life had done more than just beat them down – they looked physically beaten up. Leo counted two slings, a pair of crutches, six Ace bandages, and a few thousand Band-Aids.

"Well, all right!" Leo said. "I hear this is the party cabin!"

No one laughed. Not even the flicker of a smile. They all just stared at him.

Will patted Leo's shoulder. "Well, I'll leave you guys to get acquainted. Would someone show Leo to dinner when it's time?"

"I've got it," one of the girls said. Nyssa, Leo remembered.

She wore camo pants, a tank top that showed off her muscled arms, and a red bandana over dark hair. Aside from the smiley face bandana on her chin, she looked like an action hero, like she any second she was going to grab a machine gun and start mowing down aliens. But unlike any action hero Leo had ever seen, Nyssa looked weary and sad, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

"Always wanted a sister who could beat me up," Leo grinned. Nyssa didn't smile.

"Come on, joker boy. I'll show you around."

* * *

Leo knew workshops well. He'd grown up with grease monkeys and power tools. His mother used to joke that his first pacifier had been a lug wrench. Cabin Nine, with all the tools and machine parts, had felt as familiar as a home. But he had never seen anything like the camp forge.

One guy was working on a battle axe. He kept testing the blade on a block of concrete. The blade cut into the block like it was warm cheese, but the guy still looked unsatisfied. He continued honing the edge.

"What's he planning to kill with that thing?" Leo muttered to Nyssa. "A battle ship?"

She actually smiled at that, a small, wry grin, but a smile all the same. "You never know. We always believe in being prepared. Even with celestial bronze – "

"That's the metal?"

Nyssa nodded. "Mined from Mount Olympus. Incredibly rare. It disintegrates most monsters on contact, but some are notorious for their tough hides. Drakons – "

"You mean dragons?" Leo interrupted.

Nyssa shook her head. "Similar, but no. You'll learn the difference in monster fighting class."

"Oh, yeah, monster fighting class. Got my black belt in that years ago."

Nyssa didn't seem amused. Leo really hoped she wasn't always that serious. His dad's family had to have _some _sense of humour, right?

They passed a couple of guys working on what resembled nothing more than a bronze wind up toy. It was a six inch tall centaur, armed with a miniature bow.

One of the guys cranked the centaur's tail, and it whirred to life. It galloped across the table, shouting, "Die, mosquito, die!" and shooting everything in sight.

Apparently this was a regular occurrence, because everyone knew to hit the ground except for Leo. Six needle sized arrows pierced his shirt before someone grabbed a hammer and smashed the centaur to bits.

"Stupid curse." The camper brandished his hammer, frustrated. "All I want is a magical bug killer!"

"Ouch," Leo said. Nyssa stood up and pulled the arrows from his shirt.

"Ah, you're fine. Let's just move on before they rebuild it."

Leo rubbed his chest as they walked and jerked his thumb over at the campers already working on the centaur again. "That...does that happen often?"

Nyssa sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "You wouldn't know it now, but six months ago, we were the best of the best, when it came to building things. Jake and I, we used to have a competition over who could build the best swords. Beckendorf never participated – everyone knew his were better than either of ours. He judged the contests for us. Basically, if someone came to us with an idea for _anything, _magic items, swords, shields, spears, knives...we could make it. Lately, though, everything we build turns to junk."

"That curse?"

Nyssa frowned, troubled. "I don't believe in curses. But _something _is wrong. And if we don't figure out that dragon problem soon, it's only gonna get worse. I don't want to say this, but I'm starting to think that Hephaestus took away his blessing. Maybe without that, none of us can build anything worth a damn."

"Dragon problem?" Leo repeated. He hoped she was talking about a miniature dragon, like the centaur. Maybe one that killed cockroaches. But he wasn't going to be that lucky.

Nyssa led him over to a big map on the wall that a couple girls were studying – a map of the camp, a semicircle of land with Long Island Sound to the north, the woods on the west, the cabins to the east, and a ring of hills to the south.

"It's got to be in the hills," one of the girls said.

"We _looked _in the hills," the second girl argued. "The woods are a better hiding place."

"But we set traps – "

"Hold up," Leo said. "You guys lost a dragon? A _life-sized _dragon?"

"It's a bronze dragon," Nyssa corrected him. "But yes, a full sized automaton. The Hephaestus cabin built it years ago. Then it was lost in the woods until a few summers ago. Beckendorf found it in pieces and rebuilt it. It's been helping protect camp, but for the past few months, it's been a little, um, unpredictable."

"Unpredictable," Leo said. Nyssa and the other two girls exchanged glances. Nyssa answered the unspoken question quietly, almost hesitantly.

"It goes haywire and smashes down cabins, sets people on fire, tries to eat the satyrs."

"That's pretty unpredictable."

Nyssa nodded. "Beckendorf was the only one who could really control it. It loved him. Then when he died, the dragon just got worse and worse. Finally it went berserk and ran off. Occasionally, it shows up, demolishes something, and runs away again. Everyone expects us to find it and destroy it—"

"_Destroy _it?" Leo was appalled. His mom had once told him, _Never just give up on a project, Leo. Don't scrap it and give it up for a lost cause. If you lose interest in your project, stop, but never think finishing is impossible. _Even if they weren't talking about a bronze dragon, he would be horrified at the prospect of destroying a piece of art like that. It was something that must have taken an insane amount of time. "You've got a life-size bronze dragon, and you want to _destroy_ it?"

"It breathes fire," Nyssa explained. "It's deadly and out of control. It's dangerous. We don't have a choice."

"But it's a dragon! Dude, that's so awesome. Can't you try talking to it, controlling it?"

"We tried. Jake Mason tried. You saw how well that worked." Nyssa's voice was a growl, but Leo didn't really think she was angry – frustrated, tired, and stressed out, but not angry.

Leo thought about Jake, wrapped in a body cast, lying alone on his bunk. "Still —"

"There's no other option." Nyssa turned to the other girls. "Let's try more traps in the woods—here, here, and here. Bait them with thirty-weight motor oil."

"The dragon drinks that?" Leo asked.

"Yeah." Nyssa sighed regretfully. She lowered her voice, a wistful note entering it. "He used to like it with a little Tabasco sauce, right before bed. We've got a lot of traps in the woods already. If he springs one, we can come in with acid sprayers—should melt through his hide. Then we get metal cutters and…and finish the job."

They all looked sad, like they had to put down a pet dog. Leo realized they didn't want to kill the dragon any more than he did. It wasn't just a dragon to them – it was almost a pet. With a jolt, another realization hit him – the dragon was another reminder of Beckendorf.

"Guys," Leo said. "There has to be another way."

Nyssa looked skeptical, but a few other campers stopped what they were working on and drifted over to hear the conversation.

"Like what?" one asked. "The thing breathes fire. We can't even get close."

_Fire_, Leo thought. Oh, man, the things he could tel them about fire… But he had to be careful, even if these were his brothers and sisters. _Especially_ if he had to live with them.

"Well…" He hesitated. "Hephaestus is the god of fire, right? So don't any of you have like fire resistance or something?"

Nobody acted as if it was a crazy question, which was a relief, but Nyssa shook her head gravely, finally dropping her gaze. She stared down at her feet, as if she _wished _she could say yes, _wished _she could find some other way to control the dragon.

"That's a Cyclops ability, Leo. Demigod children of Hephaestus…we're just good with our hands. We're builders, craftsmen, weapon-smiths—stuff like that."

Leo's shoulders slumped. "Oh."

A guy in back said, "Well, a _long_ time ago—"

"Yeah, okay," Nyssa conceded. "A long time ago, some children of Hephaestus were born with power over fire. But that ability was very, very rare. And always dangerous. No demigod like that has been born in centuries. The last one …"

She looked at one of the other kids for help.

"A guy naed Thomas Faynor," a girl offered. "In sixteen sixty six. He started the Great Fire of London."

"Right," Nyssa said. "When a child of Hephaestus like that appears, it usually means something catastrophic is about to happen. And we don't need any more catastrophes."

Leo tried to keep his face clear of emotion, which wasn't his strong suit. He wasn't _Reyna. _He was just him, just Leo. "Fair point. Too bad, though. If you could resist flames, you could get close to the dragon."

"Then it would kill you with its claws and fangs," Nyssa said. "Or simply step on you. No, we've got to destroy it. Even if we _were _immune, this thing is uncontrollable. And the rest of the camp would be _very _susceptible. Trust me, if anyone _could_ figure out another answer …"

She didn't finish, but Leo got the message. This was the cabin's big test. If they could do something only Beckendorf could do, if they could subdue the dragon without killing it, then maybe their curse would be lifted. But they were stumped for ideas. Any camper who figured out how would be a hero.

A conch horn blew in the distance. Campers started putting up their tools and projects. Leo hadn't realized it was getting so late, but he looked through the windows and saw the sun going down. His ADHD did that to him sometimes. If he was bored, a fifty-minute class seemed like six hours. If he was interested in something, like touring a demigod camp, hours slipped away and _bam—_ the day was over.

"Dinner," Nyssa said. "Come on, Leo."

"Up at the pavilion, right?" he asked.

She nodded.

"You guys go ahead," Leo said. "Can you…give me a second? I'll catch up."

Nyssa hesitated, evidently unsure about leaving a new kid alone in the forge. Then her expression softened into an unexpected expression – understanding. "Sure. It's a lot to process. I remember my first day. Come up when you're ready. Just don't touch anything. Almost every project in here can kill you if you're not careful. And that's on a good day. I don't even want to think about what they could do now."

"No touching," Leo promised.

His cabin-mates filed out of the forge. Soon Leo was alone with the sounds of the bellows, the waterwheels, small machines clicking and whirring, and his thoughts, louder than all the other noises.

He stared at the map of camp—the locations where his newfound siblings were going to put traps to catch a dragon. It was wrong. Plain wrong. He couldn't stomach the thought.

_Very rare_, he thought. _And always dangerous_.

He held out his hand and studied his fingers. They were long and thin, not calloused like the other Hephaestus campers'. The fingers of a pianist, not a builder. He had always resembled his mom, in that regard – smaller than most of the other mechanics, but clever, good at what she did.

Leo had never been the biggest or the strongest kid. He'd survived in tough neighbourhoods, tough schools, tough foster homes by using his wits.

He was the class clown, the court jester. He had learned early that if you cracked jokes and pretended you weren't scared, you usually didn't get beat up. Even the baddest gangster kids would tolerate you, keep you around for laughs. Plus, humour was a good way to hide the pain. And if that didn't work, there was always Plan B. Run away. Over and over.

There _was _a Plan C, but he'd promised himself never to use it again.

He felt an urge to try it now—something he hadn't done since the accident, since his mom's death. He shouldn't do it. It was dangerous. He knew it. But instinct took over, instinct and a burning longing, so strong, it scared him.

He extended his fingers and felt them tingle, like they were waking up—pins and needles. Then flames flickered to life, curls of red-hot fire dancing across his palm.

**Thanks for reading! Review and vote on my poll? Next chapter's probably going to be Drew's! Question: What's your favourite book or series ever?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, guys, new chapter. Are you excited? Because this is where we start to veer off scri-ipt. Well, kind of. You're probably not excited. I'm excited.**

_**Drew**_

Drew caught up with Annabeth as soon as the crowd started to dissipate. "What do you think of the new girl?"

"What do you care?" Annabeth snapped. Drew examined her nails with affected disinterest.

"Well, hon, the connection seems obvious to me," she said, flipping a ringlet away from her face. "Percy vanishes, a girl appears with no memory where Hera told you you would learn what happened to him. You're not thinking deep enough. Is this what losing Percy for three days has done to you?"

Annabeth looked ready to lunge for Drew's throat. Then she sighed and motioned for Drew to walk with her. "You're right, I know, it's just...I'm worried."

"Worried?" Drew said. She laughed softly, but there was no mirth in her laughter. Her gaze sharpened, and she raised an eyebrow at the blonde. "Really, Annabeth, tell me the truth. We both know you're not just worried."

She hadn't meant to use charmspeak, but the tiniest amount had slipped into her voice. It wasn't enough to make Annabeth do anything she didn't want to, but certainly enough to relax her barriers, do what she actually did want to – spill all her feelings.

"I'm freaking out," Annabeth admitted. "I'm overwhelmed, and stressed, and I have no clue what to do."

Drew smirked to herself. It was certainly_...interesting, _to hear Annabeth admitting to _her, _of all people, that she didn't know what to do.

An unexpected surge of emotion rose in her chest. A cross between satisfaction and sympathy. She was a daughter of love – Annabeth's feelings for Percy, how much she missed him, their tragic love story...it felt good, comforting, as twisted as that sounded. But the sadness and desperation in Annabeth's eyes, her frustration...those emotions elicited Drew's sympathies, made her hope Percy was all right, wherever he was.

She shook herself, pushing aside the emotions. "By the way, sweetie, I got Mitchell to exercise his, ah, son of Aphrodite talents on darling Reyna. You're welcome."

The last words were dripping in venomous sugar.

"Do you really think that's going to work?" Annabeth asked doubtfully. Drew laughed lightly, high and sweet. She wound a lock of hair around a slender finger.

"I doubt it," she said. "Subtlety is _not _Mitchell's strong suit. Worth a try, though."

Annabeth sighed heavily and kept walking. Drew kept pace. They climbed one of the hills that marked the southern edge of the camp. Drew did what she always did when they neared the crest – turned to admire the view.

She remembered the first time she had seen it, six years ago. It had looked slightly different then, of course – the cabins hadn't formed an omega back then. There had been only twelve, forming a U. It had been just as beautiful, just as _special. _It had been the only place where Drew could be _proud _of her ADHD and her dyslexia. And it could have looked like any other place in the world and Drew wouldn't have cared – it was the place that marked her as something other than average.

Drew closed her eyes tightly and opened them again, returning to the present. What was _wrong _with her today?

They hiked a little further until they reached a cave near the top of the hill. Bones and old swords littered the ground. Torches flanked the entrance, which was covered in a velvet curtain embroidered with snakes.

Drew raised a questioning eyebrow at Annabeth. "Why are we visiting Rachel?"

"_I,_" Annabeth said, "am visiting Rachel in hopes that she can help me find Percy. I have no idea why you're coming with me."

Drew sniffed. "I did you a favour, Annabeth. It would be nice of you to remember that. I didn't _have _to tell Mitchell to figure out what's up with Reyna."

Annabeth ignored her and pushed aside the curtain. She poked her head in, then withdrew with a sigh. "Not here."

Annabeth clenched her fists tightly, a scowl fixed to her face. Drew rolled her eyes, following as the blonde strode away. This was getting ridiculous – for an Aphrodite kid, it was supposed to be a _game. _She knew that better than most – she toyed with people's emotions, had broken countless hearts. True feelings were never in the picture. Annabeth cared too much about Percy to think clearly. It was sweet...but remarkably irritating.

They walked in silence until Drew stopped dead in her tracks by the entrance to Cabin Two. Her gaze fell upon a dusty footprint atop the threshold.

Annabeth stopped with her. "What?"

Drew didn't answer. She reached out instinctively and pushed the doors. They swung open easily.

"Drew?" Annabeth said, voice rising slightly. She said the name as half question, half exclamation. "Are you crazy?"

Drew walked inside.

Hera's cabin looked – and felt - nothing like Aphrodite's. It felt cold and unwelcoming, without even a window to let in sunlight. There were no beds or furniture.

There was a circle of white columns surrounding a ten feet tall statue of Hera in the centre of the room. The statue was brightly painted, frighteningly lifelike. At its feet, a fire burned in a bronze brazier.

Behind the statue, at a little altar, stood a figure in a black shawl. Only her hands were visible, palms up.

Annabeth gasped from a few steps behind Drew. "Rachel?"

The girl turned and dropped her shawl to reveal a mane of red hair. Without the shawl, she looked like a totally normal seventeen year old She was barefoot, despite the cold floor.

"Hey!" She ran across the room to give Annabeth a hug. "I'm so sorry! I got here as fast as I could."

Drew coughed quietly. She looked Rachel up and down. "Black is definitely not your colour, hon. Got to say, the green looks good on you – ugly blouse, but good colour."

Rachel glanced down at her green top and jeans quickly. She shrugged and turned back to Annabeth. "No news on Percy?"

"None," Annabeth said. "Grover, Tyson, Nico, the Hunters – they're all looking for him. They can't find him anywhere. Do you..."

"Nope," Rachel said. "No visions or dreams. I just came here, because I had a hunch this cabin and Percy's disappearance are connected. I've learned to follow my hunches, especially this past month. Since the gods went silent."

"Me, too," Drew said. "You can't rely on Apollo to send you visions of the future any more than I can rely upon Aphrodite for fashion tips."

Apparently neither Annabeth nor Rachel found that amusing. Both shot her glares, then turned back to each other. Annabeth frowned and said, "Okay, let's think this through. Olympus closed a month ago. Mr. D was recalled, and none of the gods have been answering prayers. No one has been able to get in. Three days ago, Percy disappeared."

"And that's...all we know?" Rachel asked. Annabeth sighed and nodded.

"And that Reyna girl appeared today," Drew reminded them. Rachel glanced at her with a frown.

"Who's Reyna?" she asked. Drew shrugged.

"No idea. She and this other guy showed up not too long ago. Both older than thirteen. The guy was claimed immediately. This girl wasn't, and she claims to have no memory."

"Right," Annabeth said. "It doesn't make sense. This was the first message from any god in a month, and it came from _Hera, _the least helpful goddess, to _me, _her least favourite demigod. She _lured _me to the Grand Canyon by telling me I'd find out what happened to Percy if I went there and looked for the one in a purple shirt. What did I find? Two demigods, the one with the purple shirt being very distinctly _not _Percy."

"Why are you taking it all out on Hera?" Drew asked abruptly. "In her defence, she never said once that you'd find Percy. Just what happened to him. Seems like Reyna's the answer."

"Something bad's going on," Rachel agreed.

"Yeah, something bad's going on," Drew said mockingly. "That's what your hunch is telling you? I could have told you that last month, when Olympus closed...or three days ago, when Percy disappeared...or today, with Reyna. In case you haven't noticed, there's usually something bad going on."

Rachel opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, her body stiffened. Her eyes began to glow with a greenish light, as if she was about to issue a prophecy. Instead, she grabbed Drew by the shoulders.

"Hey!" Drew tried to back up and extricate herself from Rachel's grip, but the Oracle's hands were like steel clamps on her shoulders.

_Free me, _Rachel said, but the voice wasn't hers. It was that of an older woman, echoing as if spoken from far away, through a long pipe. _Free me, or the earth shall swallow us. It must be by the solstice._

The room started to spin. Annabeth tried to separate Drew from Rachel, but it was no use. Green smoke enveloped them. Drew pinched her arm hard, trying to remind herself where she was, that she was awake, not dreaming. She felt dizzy, like she was about to fall over.

Her suspicion that she was experiencing an extremely vivid hallucination was all but confirmed when the giant statue of Hera appeared to rise, towering over her.

Its mouth opened, filling the room with the scent of horribly thick perfume. It spoke in the same echoing voice as Rachel had: _Our enemies stir. The fiery one is only the first. Bow to his will and their king shall rise, dooming us all. FREE ME!_

Despite her best efforts, Drew's knees buckled. The room went black.

**Remember, you guys should vote on my poll if you haven't already. That decision has to be made soon.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, guys. I'm back. This chapter is most unfortunately extremely similar to the corresponding one in the book. My apologies.**

The second she saw the house, Reyna was certain she was dead.

She resisted the urge to frown. What was wrong with her? Fighting off storm spirits with a gold knife? Sure! Walking into a house? Terror, mixed with the strong urge to run away. It was ridiculous.

Mitchell, who had been chattering about the gods and smiling the entire time they had been walking, flashed another grin. "Here we are. The Big House, camp headquarters."

Reyna didn't say anything. She stared at the house. It didn't look threatening. There was nothing about it that justified the dread she felt in the pit of her stomach. It was just a four story manor, painted baby blue with white trim. The porch had lounge chairs, a card table, and an empty wheelchair. Wind chimes shaped like nymphs turned into trees as they spun. It was like a vacation home for old people.

But she felt like the windows were glaring down at her, felt like the bronze weather vane pointing in her direction was telling her to turn around. Every molecule in Reyna's body told her she was on enemy ground.

"You're going to be perfect here," Mitchell said.

_What?_

That had come out of nowhere. Reyna examined him closely. There was a motive behind the comment. She just didn't know what it was.

He was still smiling warmly at her. She was starting to think that smile never left his face. Reyna supposed he was good looking, with his green eyes and chiseled features, but his proximity to her was making her uncomfortable.

She raised an eyebrow at him. He rushed to explain himself. "Reyna, you're, like, perfect heroine material. Talent _and _good looks? Perfect combination, really."

_Talent?_

How did he know whether or not she had talent in anything? Reyna thought back, trying to remember if anyone had mentioned her killing the storm spirits after they had arrived. She didn't think anyone had.

Then Reyna realized that Mitchell wasn't looking at her anymore. His smile was directed at her, but his gaze kept flickering upwards, above her head.

"You're looking for a sign," she guessed.

Mitchell looked surprised, almost panicked at first. Then his face eased into a grin. "Caught me there. Um...from what I've heard, you're a powerful demigod. I guess your parent's going to claim you right away, and I really want to see that. So, tell me – is it your dad or your mom?"

It finally clicked in Reyna's mind. "Mitchell, I'm not lying about my amnesia."

Mitchell blushed. "No! I never said you were lying, I just thought you might have a guess..."

Reyna's lips twitched upward in mild amusement. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a terrible liar?"

Mitchell laughed a genuine laugh at that. "All the time, actually."

"I suppose that's what Drew wanted?" Reyna pressed. "For you to find out if I was telling the truth?"

Mitchell nodded. Reyna looked away from him and back at the house. Every instinct in her body was screaming at her to run away. But it was too late for that – she could hear footsteps from the house, coming onto the porch. No, not footsteps – hooves.

"Hey, Chiron," Mitchell called. "This is Reyna. Annabeth said to take her to see you."

Reyna nearly stumbled backwards. Rounding the corner was a man on horseback. No, that wasn't exactly right – the man was part of the horse. From the waist up, he was a man with curly brown hair and a well trimmed beard, with a T-shirt reading _World's Best Centaur _and a quiver and bow strapped to his back. From waist down, he was a white stallion.

He started to smile at Reyna, then froze. The colour drained from his face.

"You...you should be dead."

* * *

Chiron invited her inside. The way he asked her to come in made it sound like an order. He told Mitchell to go back to his cabin. The son of Aphrodite departed with a grin, waving at Reyna.

Chiron trotted over to the empty wheelchair on the porch. He slipped off his bow and quiver and backed up to the chair, which opened up. Chiron stepped into it with his back legs, somehow managing to fit into a space that should have been much too small.

His lower half disappeared and the chair folded up again, popping out a set of false human legs covered by a blanket.

"Follow me," he told Reyna. "We have lemonade."

_Lemonade? _Despite her discomfort with the situation, she had to resist the urge to laugh at that. What was it, last luxury before they shoved her in front of a shooting squad?

_Oh no, of course not, _Reyna tried to reassure herself. _Surely they don't shoot people here. Decapitation, perhaps?_

The living room looked like it had been swallowed by a rainforest. Grapevines grew up the walls and across the ceiling, leafy green and bursting with bunches of red grapes. In the back of her mind, Reyna realized that that shouldn't seem right to her – plants shouldn't grow that way, at least not in the winter.

But for some reason, the sight of the plants soothed her slightly, assuaging some of the unease. It made no sense, but it felt like home.

Leather couches faced a stone fireplace where a crackling fire blazed merrily. Wedged in the corner was an old-style Pac-Man arcade game. Masks were mounted on the wall – Greek theatre masks, feathered Mardi Gras masks, Venetian _Carnevale _masks with big hooked noses, carved wooden African masks. Grape vines grew through the gaps in the mask.

A stuffed leopard's head was mounted above the fireplace. It looked horrifically alive, eyes following Reyna around the room.

She held back a shudder. Taxidermy. How barbaric.

Then the leopard snarled. Reyna nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Now, Seymour," Chiron berated. "Reyna is a guest. Behave yourself."

"That thing is _alive," _Reyna said.

Chiron rummaged through the side pocket of his wheelchair and brought out a packet of Snausages. He tossed one to the leopard, who snapped it up. "Yes, he is. You'll have to excuse the décor. This was all a gift from our old director before he was recalled to Olympus. He thought it would help us remember him. Mr. D does have an odd sense of humour."

"Mr. D," Reyna repeated. "As in...Dionysus?"

Chiron nodded, smiling as if she were a student that had given him an answer better than he expected. He poured lemonade, his hands trembling slightly, as if her comment, while good enough to merit a surprised smile, wasn't good enough to allow him to relax.

"Yes. As for Seymour, Mr. D liberated him from a Long Island garage sale. The leopard is his sacred animal, you know, and he was horrified that someone would stuff such a noble creature. He assumed that life as a stuffed head mounted on a wall was better than no life at all, and granted it to him."

Seymour bared his fangs at Reyna and sniffed the air.

"Please, sit," Chiron said, gesturing at the couches. He leaned back in his wheelchair and tried to smile. The old man's eyes were dark, weary and deep, the eyes of a person who had lived a lifetime of pain and suffering. "Would you mind explaining to me exactly how you arrived here?"

Reyna told him, starting from the point at which she had woken up on the bus. She didn't see the point in lying or leaving anything out. Chiron was a good listener, and he didn't make her as uneasy as Annabeth had. He didn't react to anything she said, other than the occasional nod.

When she finished speaking, Chiron nodded slowly, as if Reyna came bearing the worst news possible. He took a sip of lemonade. "I see. I'm sure you have questions."

"Yes," Reyna admitted. "Such as, what did you mean when you said I should be dead?"

Chiron studied her with concern. "My girl, do you not know what the marks on your arm mean? The colour of your shirt? Do you not remember anything?"

Reyna held his gaze for a moment before looking down at her forearm and the tattoo inscribed upon it: SPQR, the crossed sword and torch, the four parallel lines.

"No," she said, looking up again. "Nothing."

Chiron sighed heavily. "Do you know where you are? Do you understand what this place is and who I am?"

"You're Chiron," Reyna said. "My guess is that you're the same centaur from the stories, the trainer of heroes. And if you're here, like all the kids out there...this is a camp for demigods, children of the gods."

"So you believe these gods still exist?"

"Yes," Reyna said automatically. She paused then, considering what to say. She felt remarkably alert, like she was treading on dangerous ground. As if any minute, she'd have to fight for her life. "I mean...the gods are a powerful part of civilization. They move from country to country as the centre of power shifts."

"_I couldn't have put it better myself._" Chiron's voice seemed to have changed somehow. Before Reyna could think about how, he went on. "_You know about their existence. You've already been claimed, haven't you_?"

"_I don't know,_" Reyna answered. "_I don't remember._"

Seymour the leopard snarled.

Then it clicked in Reyna's mind. Chiron had spoken in a different language and she had understood, automatically switching to the same tongue.

Reyna shook herself and made a conscious effort to switch back to English. "I'm sorry, what exactly was that?"

"You speak Latin," the centaur observed. "Few demigods do. Most can recognize a few phrases, of course – it's in their blood, but not as much as Ancient Greek. None can speak Latin fluently without practice."

Reyna thought, trying to understand the implications of that. She still felt like she shouldn't be there. The fact that she spoke a language that most others didn't wasn't helping. The whole place felt wrong – dangerous.

But Chiron wasn't threatening. The centaur seemed genuinely concerned for her, afraid for her safety.

The fire reflected in Chiron's eyes, making them dance fretfully. He sighed heavily. "I have taught for millennia, Reyna. I have seen countless heroes come and go. It is very rare that they have happy endings. It is a curious thing, but it is far easier to grow used to pleasure than pain – it still breaks my heart every time one of my pupils dies. But you...you are not like any pupil I have ever taught. Your presence here could be a disaster."

"You must be an inspiring teacher," Reyna said. She bit her tongue. She really needed to start thinking before she spoke.

"I'm sorry. But it's true. I had hoped that after Percy's success, we might have some peace."

"Percy Jackson?" Reyna asked. The name had been brought up earlier in the day. She _knew _that name. It should mean something to her. "The one who's missing."

"Yes," Chiron confirmed. "I hoped that after he succeeded in the Titan War and saved Olympus, I might be able to enjoy a final triumph, a happy ending, perhaps even retire quietly. I should have known better. The last chapter approaches, just as it did before. The worst is yet to come."

Reyna looked away from Chiron, into the depths of the flickering flames. The last chapter...

It sounded familiar, painfully so. _History repeats itself._

What had happened after the Titan War, in the myths? She should know. She really should. She knew there had been a brief period of peacetime, and then...another war. But with whom?

"All right," she said slowly. "The worst is yet to come. But you never answered my question – what did you mean when you said I should be dead?"

"I wish I could explain, child. But I'm afraid I cannot. I swore an oath upon the River Styx and all things sacred that I would never..." Chiron frowned. "Yet you are here, in violation of that same oath. That, too, should be impossible. I don't understand. Who would – "

Seymour the leopard howled. Reyna's hand flew to her knife's hilt. He stopped mid-howl, mouth frozen, half open.

The arcade game in the corner had stopped beeping. The flames in the fireplace had stopped flickering, solidifying like red glass.

Chiron, too, had stopped speaking. Reyna leaped off the couch, but Chiron kept staring at the spot in front of him, mouth half open, just like Seymour's. His eyes didn't blink. His chest didn't move.

_Reyna, _a voice said. At the sound of her name in the still, silent room, Reyna whipped out her dagger.

For a moment, she thought the leopard's head had spoken. Then dark smoke boiled out of Seymour's mouth, and another thought occurred to her: _storm spirits._

Her grip on the knife tightened.

The mist took the form of a woman, dressed in black robes. A hood was pulled over her face, but her eyes glowed brightly under its shadow. A goatskin cloak was wrapped around her shoulders.

_Would you attack your guardian? _the woman chided. Her voice echoed in Reyna's head. _Lower your weapon._

"_Guardian_?" Reyna repeated. She didn't lower her dagger. "Who are you? How – "

_Our time is limited, child. I do not have time to answer all your questions. My prison grows stronger by the hour. It took me a full month to garner the energy to work the smallest magic through these bonds. I have little time, and even less energy._

"You're in prison." Reyna was growing less and less inclined to lower her knife. "I don't know who you are. And you are not my guardian."

_You know me, _the woman insisted. _I have known you since your birth._

"I don't remember."

_No, you don't, _the woman agreed. _It was necessary. Since your birth, I have guided you, my girl. I kept you alive, for I knew you would grow to become my champion. It is time to pay your debt._

"I don't – " Reyna started to say.

_Find me, _the woman in the mist said. _Find me and free me from my prison, else their king shall rise from the earth, and I will be destroyed and your memories lost forever._

"Is that a warning or a threat?" Reyna said. "You took my memories?"

_You have until sunset on the solstice. Four, short days. I believe in you. Do not fail me._

The woman dissolved, and the mist curled back into Seymour's mouth.

Time unfroze. Seymour's howl turned into a cough, as if he were choking. The fire crackled to life once more. The arcade machine beeped, and Chiron said, " – dare bring you here?"

"The lady in the mist, perhaps?" Reyna offered.

Chiron looked up in surprise. "Weren't you just sitting...why are you holding a knife?"

"I think your leopard just ate a goddess," Reyna said wryly. She told him about visit, the smokey figure that had disappeared into Seymour's mouth.

"Oh, dear," Chiron murmured. "This does explain a lot."

"Would you mind explaining to me, then?" Reyna said. She paused briefly. "Please."

Before Chiron could say a word, footsteps reverberated on the porch outside. The front door blew open, and Annabeth and another girl, a redhead, burst in, dragging another girl between them. The girl's – Drew, Reyna remembered – head lolled like she was unconscious.

Reyna lowered her knife and rushed over. "What happened?"

"Hera's cabin," Annabeth gasped, like they'd run all the way. "Vision."

The red haired girl looked up. Her face was pale, eyes glistening with tears.

"I think..." The girl gulped. "I think I may have killed her."

**Chapter question: Favourite kind of chocolate? I come with good news – my poll is now closed. It shall be Reyna, Leo, and Drew to go visit Hylla.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Merry Christmas!**

Reyna and the redhead, who introduced herself as Rachel, put Drew on the couch while Annabeth rushed down the hall to fetch a medical kit. Drew was breathing, but she wouldn't wake up. She looked like she was in a coma.

Reyna frowned and turned to Chiron. She didn't know the girl. She hadn't even met her. Yet she felt oddly concerned, as if she were responsible for every camper who was ever injured. "Do you know what's wrong?"

Chiron put a hand to Drew's forehead and grimaced. "Her mind is in a fragile state. Rachel, what happened?"

"I wish I knew," Rachel said, staring down at Drew. "When I got to camp, I had a premonition about Hera's cabin. I went inside. Annabeth and Drew came in while I was there. We talked for a bit, and I – I just blanked out. Annabeth said I spoke in a different voice."

"A prophecy?" Chiron asked. Rachel shook her head.

"No. The spirit of Delphi comes from within. I know what that feels like. This wasn't the same." Rachel paused, trying to find the words. "This was like someone was speaking through me, from a long distance."

Annabeth ran in, holding a leather pouch. She knelt next to Drew. "Chiron, what happened back there – I've never seen anything like it. It wasn't just that it wasn't a prophecy – her voice sounded like an older woman. She grabbed Drew by the shoulders, and told her – "

"To free her from a prison," Reyna completed. She sighed softly, massaging her temples. Her head throbbed.

Annabeth stared at her through narrowed eyes. "How did you know that?"

Chiron made a three-fingered gesture over his heart. "Reyna, tell them. Annabeth, my medicine bag, please."

Chiron uncorked a vial and trickled drops down Drew's mouth while Reyna gave a brief explanation of what had happened when the room had frozen, the ghostly figure that had claimed to be her guardian.

When she finished speaking, no one spoke for a moment. Reyna breathed slowly, trying to slow her racing heart.

"Does this happen often?" she asked carefully. "Contact from prisoners, demanding you free them?"

Annabeth shook her head slightly. "No. Never. She called herself your guardian? Not your parent?"

"She said guardian," Reyna confirmed.

"I've never heard of anything like that before." Annabeth frowned, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. "The storm spirit at the Grand Canyon – you said he claimed to be working for some mistress, right? Could this be her?"

"I don't think so," Reyna said. "If she's my enemy, why would she be asking for help? She's imprisoned somewhere. She mentioned an enemy getting more powerful and a king rising from the earth on the solstice."

Annabeth turned to Chiron. "Not Kronos. Please tell me it's not Kronos."

Chiron looked miserable. "No. That threat has ended."

"But..." Annabeth prompted. Chiron didn't answer. He closed his medicine bag.

"Oh." Rachel's voice was very small. "Oh, dear. I see. It was Hera. Of course. Her voice, her cabin. She appeared to Reyna at the same moment. She's imprisoned somewhere."

"Hera?" Annabeth's snarl was even fiercer than Seymour's. The leopard was mounted to a wall. Annabeth was perfectly capable of attacking someone. "_She _took you over? She did this to Drew?"

"Rachel is right," Reyna cut in, suddenly certain. "She was wearing a goatskin cloak. That's a symbol of Juno, isn't it?"

"It is?" Annabeth scowled. "I've never heard that."

Chiron nodded reluctantly. "Of Juno, Hera's Roman aspect, in her most warlike state. The cloak was a symbol of the Roman soldier."

"But how?" Rachel pressed. "Better question – who? Who could do that to the queen of the gods?"

Annabeth's scowl grew more pronounced. She crossed her arms. "Whoever it is, maybe we should thank them. Whoever can shut up Hera – "

"Annabeth," Chiron warned. Annabeth stopped talking. "Hera is the queen of the gods. She is the eldest Olympian, and far more powerful than you know. She holds the Council together. If she has been imprisoned, this could shake the foundations of the world. The stability of Olympus could be unravelled. And if she has relinquished her pride enough to ask Reyna, a half blood hero, for help...things could be dire indeed."

"Fine," Annabeth grumbled. "But who did it? We know Titans can capture gods, and gods used to trap each other all the time in the old stories. But the Titan War is over, and Hera wouldn't call on a half blood to help her if a god had captured her. Who else _could _capture a god? Someone more powerful than a Titan?"

Reyna's eyes moved from Annabeth to the leopard's head, mounted on the wall. She stared at it without seeing, considering, calculating.

She didn't understand Annabeth's vendetta against Juno. It seemed personal, as if Juno had struck out against Annabeth alone. Reyna had nothing against the goddess, but she had no reason to be loyal to her either.

Then why did she feel obliged to find the answer?

_Oh, Reyna, _she imagined someone saying, in a tone that somehow blended sweet fondness, light teasing, and a lazy confidence. _You know the answer, darling. History repeats itself._

Fantastic. Now she was imagining voices in her head.

Reyna pushed aside the worries about her sanity and focused. What had happened after the Titan War in the myths? There had been another threat...

She nearly cursed. Her memories were gone, but her knowledge was still there – except in the one area she needed it.

_Don't bemoan what you can't prevent, _the voice in her head berated her. _Focus on what you can affect._

Great. Not only did she have a voice in her head, the voice was giving her advice that sounded like it had come from a fortune cookie.

Reyna was pretty certain she hated fortune cookies.

"Hera said she has been trying to break through her bonds enough to make contact for a month," she said slowly. Annabeth nodded, lips tightening into a thin line.

"That's how long Olympus has been closed," she said. "The gods know something bad is going on."

"What I don't understand is why Hera would send me here," Reyna admitted, frowning. "She took my memories, placed me in the middle of a school trip, and told you to come find me. Why? If she has found the strength to make contact, why through me?"

"The gods need demigods to perform their will," Rachel said. "Right?"

Annabeth's frown deepened. She nodded, troubled. "Yes, but that doesn't really answer Reyna's question. I can understand Hera needing a demigod to free her. But why Reyna, and why take her memory?"

"Drew has to be involved somehow," Rachel added. "Hera sent her the same message."

Reyna blinked in surprise as Rachel straightened up, green eyes brightening as if she had just received the first piece of good news in years. The red haired girl smiled hopefully. "Annabeth, Drew was right. This is connected to Percy's disappearance."

Annabeth's expression softened for a moment before hardening again as she turned to Chiron. "What's going on, Chiron? What are you not telling me?"

Chiron looked anguished, as if he had aged decades in the past few minutes. The lines around his eyes were etched deeply. Reyna felt an unexpected surge of sympathy rise in her chest. She felt like she should be able to relate, know what it felt like to bear the burden of responsibility.

"My dear..." The old centaur swallowed. "In this, I cannot help you. I am so sorry, child."

Annabeth blinked. "You've never...you've _never _kept information from me. Even – "

"I will be in my office," Chiron interrupted. His voice was heavy. "I need time to think. Rachel, would you watch over Drew? Call Argus to bring her to the infirmary, if you'd like. And Annabeth, you should speak with Reyna. Tell her...tell her about the Greek and Roman gods."

"But …"

The centaur turned his wheelchair around and rolled down the hallway. Annabeth's eyes turned stormy. She muttered something in Greek. Reyna wasn't quite sure what it was, but she had the distinct impression that it wasn't particularly complimentary.

Reyna's first instinct was to apologize. She swallowed it. She had nothing to apologize for – especially, she somehow knew, to Annabeth. But she felt obligated to voice her feelings.

"I shouldn't be here," she said. "I don't know why, but something has been set in motion by my coming here. Chiron told me he'd sworn an oath and couldn't talk about it."

"What oath?" Annabeth demanded. "I've never seen him act like this before. And I don't know why he would tell me to tell you about the gods, either."

Annabeth stopped talking abruptly, eyes falling on the dagger Reyna had placed on the coffee table. She reached out to touch the blade, gingerly, like it might be hot. Reyna cleared her throat and picked up the knife.

"Is that gold?" Annabeth asked. "Do you remember where you got it?"

Reyna shook her head. She ran a finger down the length of the blade, turning it in her hand.

Annabeth nodded, setting her jaw resolutely, as if she'd come up with a rather desperate plan. "If Chiron's not going to help, we're going to have to figure things out ourselves. The only way I can think to do that is...Cabin Fifteen. Rachel, can you keep an eye on Drew?"

"Definitely," Rachel promised. "Good luck, Reyna."

"What's in Cabin Fifteen?" Reyna asked. Annabeth stood up and stretched.

"Maybe a way to get your memories back," the girl said. "Come on."

* * *

They headed toward a wing of cabins in the southwest corner of the green. Some were dramatic, with glowing torches, others elegant, with graceful pillars. Cabin Fifteen wasn't particularly fancy. It had mud walls and a rush roof, with a wreath of red poppies hanging from the door.

"What is this place?" Reyna asked. Annabeth smiled tightly.

"Cabin for Hypnos," she answered promptly. "God of sleep. If there's a god who can figure out memory loss, it's him."

Reyna followed Annabeth across the threshold.

The lighting inside the cabin was dim, mainly from a fire that danced merrily in the hearth. A tree branch hung above the mantle, each twig dripping white liquid into a collection of tin bowls. Three kids were asleep in bunks, under piles of covers.

Soft violin music played from somewhere. The cabin smelt like lavender and fresh laundry. The cabin was still and peaceful, cozy. Reyna's shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Her eyelids were starting to feel heavy. Crawling into one of the spare beds and sleeping sounded like a great idea.

She forced her eyes open. She didn't have the time to sleep.

Annabeth glanced at her. "You holding up okay?"

Reyna nodded, pinching her arm hard.

"Cabin Fifteen does that to everyone," Annabeth warned. "This place is even more dangerous than the Ares cabin. With Ares, you can learn where the landmines are. Here, there's nothing to avoid, nothing you can fight."

She strode over to the nearest snoring boy and shook his shoulder. "Clovis."

The boy was stocky, with a blond tuft of hair, thick features, and a thick neck. He didn't respond to Annabeth's voice, instead hugging his pillow closer to him.

"Clovis!" Annabeth shook him harder, then knocked on his forehead several times.

"Wh-what?" Clovis complained, sitting up and squinting. He yawned. Annabeth and Reyna did the same.

"Stop that!" Annabeth said. "We need your help."

"Later," the boy mumbled. "I'm sleeping. Good night."

Annabeth yanked his pillow from his arms before he could pass out again.

"That's not fair," Clovis complained meekly. "Give it back."

"_Clovis,_" Reyna enunciated, unable to keep silent any longer. She grabbed his arm and hauled him into an upright position. "Enough. You can sleep once you help us."

Clovis sighed. His breath smelled like warm milk, which made Reyna feel a little sick. The nausea her keep alert. "Fine. What do you want?"

Annabeth explained. Every once in a while, she'd snap her fingers to keep Clovis's attention. When she finished, Clovis stood up and stretched. He stumbled forward, nearly collapsing. Reyna caught him, holding him upright. He blinked at her. "So you don't remember anything?"

Reyna nodded. "I get impressions, but that's all."

"Like what?" he prompted.

"I shouldn't be here," Reyna said. "Not at this camp. I don't belong here."

"Hmm. Close your eyes."

Annabeth nodded reassuringly, which really didn't do much to assuage Reyna's anxiety. Reyna glanced around the room, at the crackling fire, the beds. She took in the sound of the music and the scent of the laundry.

She was afraid.

The cozy cabin frightened her more than the storm spirits, or the people she had seen duelling in the arena. Here, there was nothing she could defend herself again.

She was afraid that she'd fall asleep, end up sleeping her life away in one of the bunks. She closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, her eyes snapped open. She was sitting in a chair by the fire. Clovis ad Annabeth knelt beside her.

"What happened?" she asked. "How long was – "

"Just a few minutes," Annabeth said. "Clovis was trying to recover your memories. You almost dissolved."

"Usually," Clovis said, "memories are lost for a good reason. They sink beneath the surface like dreams, lost with time. Usually, I can bring them back with a good sleep. But this..."

"Lethe?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Clovis said. "Not even Lethe."

He pointed to the tree branch dripping milky drops above the fireplace. "That's a symbol of my father, Hypnos. It's a branch of a tree from the Underworld, dipped into the Lethe. The River Lethe, in the Underworld, dissolves your memories, wipes your memory clean. Not a place you want to go swimming."

Annabeth nodded as if to confirm it. "Percy went there once. He told me it was powerful enough to wipe the mind of a Titan."

"Lethe..." Reyna mused. "So if that isn't why I can't remember anything, what is?"

"Your mind wasn't wiped and your memories weren't buried," Clovis said. "They've been stolen."s

Reyna stared into the crackling fire, listening to the sound of Lethe water hitting the bottoms of the tin cups.

"Stolen," she repeated.

"By a god," Clovis added. "Only a god would have that kind of power."

"We already knew it was Juno," Reyna said. "The question is, why would she?"

Clovis scratched his neck. "Juno?"

"Hera," Annabeth clarified. "Reyna likes the Roman names."

"Hmm," Clovis said. Reyna realized his eyes had shut.

"Clovis," she snapped at him.

"What? What?" His eyes fluttered open. "We were talking about pillows, right? No, gods. I remember now. Roman and Greek. Sure, it could be important."

"But they're the same gods," Annabeth said before Reyna could snap at Clovis. "Just different names."

"Not exactly," Clovis said.

Reyna straightened up. Suddenly she was very awake. "What do you mean, not exactly?"

"Well..." Clovis yawned. "Some gods are only Roman, like Janus or Pompona. But even with the major Greek gods – more than just their names changed when they moved to Rome. Their appearances changed. Their attributes changed. They even had different personalities."

"But..." Annabeth faltered. "Okay, so maybe people saw them differently through the centuries. That doesn't change who they are."

"Sure it does." Clovis began to nod off, so Reyna snapped her fingers under his nose.

"Coming, Mother!" he yelped. "I mean...Yeah, I'm awake. So, um, personalities. The gods change to reflect their host cultures. You know, in these days, Zeus likes tailored suits, reality television, and that Chinese food place on East Twenty-eighth Street, right? Same thing back in Roman times, and the gods were Roman for almost as long as they were Greek. Their Roman aspects are still a big part of their character."

Annabeth shook her head, bewildered. "But how do you know all this?"

"Oh, I spend a lot of my time dreaming. I see the gods all the time, shifting forms. In a dream, you can be different people, in different places. It's a lot like being a god, actually. You can do anything in a dream. Your subconscious controls it completely."

"Clovis," Annabeth interrupted. "Focus."

"Right. Rome," Clovis said. "We call the gods by their Greek names because those are their original forms. But it's not right to say their Roman aspects are the same. The Roman gods were more warlike. Harsher, more powerful and distant."

"The dark side of the gods?"Annabeth asked. Clovis shook his head, but Reyna spoke first.

"They stood for discipline, honour, strength," she said. "All good things. Discipline is what made the Roman empire last."

Clovis looked at her curiously. "True. But at the first sight of weakness, the Roman gods would go for blood. Rome was the perfect example of Darwinism – only the strong survived."

"What does that have to do with Reyna, though?" Annabeth asked.

"I don't know," Clovis said. "But if Hera took her memory, only she can give it back. And if I had to meet the queen of the gods, I'd hope she was in a Hera mood, rather than a Juno mood."

Annabeth stared at the branch above the fireplace, dripping Lethe water into the tin bowls. Her forehead was creased. Her frown was so worried, Reyna was curious as to just what she was thinking.

Then Annabeth stood, tossing Clovis his pillow. "Thanks. We'll see you at dinner."

Clovis collapsed onto the ground, hugging his pillow. Annabeth returned her gaze to Reyna. Her gaze was stormy.

"Come on, Reyna. Let's go. I don't like people toying with me, and I'm starting to think you might be in serious trouble."

**Happy holidays, and have a wonderful new year!**


End file.
